


I'm Medicated, How Are You?

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Asylum, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-15 15:05:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin is a patient suffering from severe schizophrenia in mental health asylum and is struggling to cope with the medication, but when bi-polar sufferer Ray seems to be able to soothe a part of him - there appears to be a slither of hope for them both. But they can never be fixed and should have seen it earlier. Because when Ray's condition comes crashing down upon him, leaving Gavin to battle his demons alone, it's only a matter of time before things come to an end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Generally speaking, the drugs kept everything in line. The ache of screaming voices solely rooted in Gavin’s head and the drum of his heart against his chest, so very artificial but so real in his mind, were pushed aside when he eventually managed to force his gag reflex into submission – and swallowed those pretty white pills.

But it had never been a full success. It had never fully stopped that hyper-active muttering in his head. Those screaming voices, those incoherent ones, each and every faceless person never stopped their words completely. The pills only helped, and sometimes he just couldn’t hack the medication at all. In those hours where he just couldn’t hack the sickness that followed when trying to consume them, everything was a dark and frightening mess. Those voices, all different with altered intentions, would haunt him for each second they spoke, like a record that wouldn’t right itself. And some conscious part of him would do nothing but sob at it all. Some part of him was deteriorating each day he was left unfixed.

They scared him. They frightened him _so_ much. But there was nothing he could do to even soothe it. Even with the medication, it had been hit and miss for so many months and in those panicked hours where the biggest shadow of his mind would do nothing but scream in different tones – there was only one thing that could help him.

And that thing was actually a person. Someone so very like himself.

Except people aren’t as constant as a pill. People aren’t as convenient as everything you needed in one compressed, chemical-fused package. People weren’t stored up for when you ran out. They weren’t all the same components each and every time you were exposed to them. They changed. They had other intentions other to fix you. They had their own pills to be taking. And yet Gavin couldn’t help but cling onto that one person. Even if he was impossible to seal back up, each bit of help he needed so much. He’d never been this dependant before.

But once he was diagnosed, his life became an endless stretch of scheduled medication and the hopes of seeing the glimpse of one particular face every day. He relied on everything consistent, because the state of his head never was.

 

When he wakes up that morning, the gentle call from a nurse in a clean-cut, light blue outfit is the first thing he hears and if he’s unlucky enough, the last thing before he sleeps again. If he’s seriously unfortunate that day, it’ll be a voice that he has no face to put to and if he leaves it that way, the voices will multiply again and he won’t sleep. It hasn’t been like that in a week, but each day is a higher percentage that’ll be the next night. He tries not to worry, but knows he will.

   “How are you feeling this morning, Gavin?”

Gavin looks at the nurse before tearing his eyes away quickly, a habit that had easily formed once he’d been taken in here. He couldn’t recall the nurse’s name at all.

   “I’m alright.” was the only thing he could think to say, even if he was anything but that. The nurse smiled, the look painfully false and like it was painted on, the canvas cracked and peeling.

_She doesn’t like you._

Gavin still reacted to the voices like he always did. A sharp intake of breath and his eyes widened just slightly. The nurse noticed and frowned, almost as though she was annoyed, not concerned. Gavin knew that could just have been his own mind playing tricks, but he couldn’t get the image of her furrowed brows out of his head. His body jerked as more and more voices emerged from the darkness of his head, sighing deeply to try and will them away and the nurse broke the silence as soon as she could.

   “If you get ready we’ll head down to breakfast and get you your medication, is that okay?”

Mechanically, Gavin’s head nodded and he stood up to collect some clothes. The nurse left him briefly after that, waiting until Gavin emerged out of those four walls to head down to the collective dining hall.

His breathing sped up and his actions stiffened as seconds passed like years and those voices grew more insistent again. He never even noticed when he began to mumble back, occupied with the horrible things they were saying and agreeing with those disembodied ones that felt slightly kinder.

 He didn’t notice as the nurse began to look worried, passing an anxious glance over to one of the other staff members who was sorting out patient’s meals. Gavin’s agitated retorts grew louder, and the mantra of voices pummelling his ears and mind and grasping his attention became more heated and illegible. It was starting again. It was all starting up again.

He only noticed when the nurse tried to offer him those pretty white pills, and when he refused – too busy trying to speak and argue back at those whispering but clear words – another nurse walked over hurriedly to help the cause.

 

_…you fucking piece of shit-_

_…don’t listen, I don’t know why you listen…_

_…have you looked outside, it looks warm today…_

_…those pills will take care of you for good, you won’t get back up-_

_…she wants you out of here…_

_…stop, don’t take them, it’s poison, all poison-_

Distantly, he felt fingers wrapping around his chin that were trying to tilt his head back, hesitant but more forceful when he attempted to pull away.

They said it was poison…they were poisoning him…he wouldn’t wake up if he let the nurses do this. Why did they want him dead? What had he done? The voices were laughing at him. He was falling straight into it all; he was letting the nurses kill him, wasn’t he?

   “Gavin, can you hear us? We need to give you your medicine. Gavin?”

Those quickly hushed voices pounding in his head overtook every word and the sound of a chair pulling up in front of him.

_…no, no, don’t let them do it, don’t let them…_

_…you’re fine you don’t need any of this…_

_…don’t take them, Gavin… **don’t do it** …_

 

   “Hey, Gavin.”

With that, they washed out like a painting left in the rain. Those voices that were running faster and louder inside of his head and taking up every bit of space were put on hold – as though the easiest thing in the world.

They were still there. They’d always be there. But they died down so fast just from that tone of voice that was so distinctive to him. It rang out in his head and lowered everything else in its wake.

Just this one person would act as his escape. When the pills stopped working and his condition deteriorated to the point where he feared complete hysteria, just that one voice could outweigh the hundreds.

Gavin looked up to find endless brown eyes, obscured by glasses but no less bright, and an unnaturally happy expression adorning the man’s features. He took a minute to catch his breath, heart hammering against his ribs while the nurses around him loosened their grip, watching the exchange with caution.

Everything was knocked down a tone. It was bearable. For once in those endless minutes, he could cope with the drone of detached voices from his head.

That solace was one he'd forever crave.

When his voice finally found him again, one single word found his throat - and left.

   “Ray.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is a patient suffering from severe schizophrenia in mental health asylum and is struggling to cope with the medication, but when bi-polar sufferer Ray seems to be able to soothe a part of him - there appears to be a slither of hope for them both. But they can never be fixed and should have seen it earlier. Because when Ray's condition comes crashing down upon him, leaving Gavin to battle his demons alone, it's only a matter of time before things come to an end.

Ray couldn’t say why he seemed to soothe a small part of Gavin’s aching head, because as soon as he managed to subdue that painful bit of Gavin’s mind, he brought it straight back. Ray’s intentions and actions were solely rooted in one of the darkest parts of himself – and he just couldn’t afford to help Gavin as much as he might want to. His head was a hot and cold mess, and Gavin’s own problems would probably break him completely. In those lighter months, when things weren’t as bad as possible, he’d be there to greet Gavin with a far-too-big smile and chatter that could out weigh any of the phantom-noise in the Brit’s skull, but when the dark came they both had to battle through it.

 

No matter how lost they might have got in the endless days of darkened mornings and that constant weight on their chests, it wasn’t something that could be willed away so easily. Seconds seemed like years of torment, no matter the occasion.

 

Always filled with voices for Gavin. Replaced with something overwhelmingly different for Ray.

 

The day that Gavin had one of his worst spirals was one of the few months that Ray’s mood had took a complete turn, heightened to the point of dizziness and crashing over him like lightening, rising his mood to unbelievable peaks, and unspeakable lows. But while he was in high spirits he’d help as much as he could, even if his actions seemed like nothing.

 

That morning was the same as it had been for three months almost, waking as soon as a slither of light filtered its way into the room and starting a chain reaction for the next day. Everything was a flurry of movement and enthusiasm, changing clothes and cleaning the room, everything as tidy as it ever could be. It was as though the smallest details could intrigue Ray, heightening his already hyper-active sense of bliss and leaving him with a manic glint in his eye, far too intense for most to stand. It was unnerving in a sense, an unpredictable tightness strained across those hazel orbs. The nurse didn’t have to wait a second when she arrived to escort Ray down to breakfast.

 

His eyes were everywhere, assessing every single detail around him and filling him up inside. Although slightly fidgety, he was happy to sit down and wait for the breakfast to be served, smiling as the nurse left him to attend a slight mishap just a few tables down. As he waited, he played with the napkin sitting innocently on the table next to his cutlery, folding, tearing and manipulating the material into tiny shapes and turning off-cuts into patterns. By the time his attention was brought elsewhere, there was an intricate design sitting on his right side.

 

And then there was screaming. He knew that voice so very well.

 

His eyes darted up and the minute his eyes landed on the other man he could feel that invisible darkness encasing Gavin with each shout, each retort and each fixated glance to the ceiling, focused on something that just wasn’t there – but was so real to the Brit. But it wouldn’t pierce Ray – it wouldn’t affect him at all. Taking a single glance down at his current project that morning, he stood up and never even minded as the small pieces of tissue shifted and dropped to the floor under a light breeze. Ray’s eyes were trained on Gavin, and his mouth pinned into a smile. And when his lips parted, he could see that break in Gavin’s eyes, the halt in his stare and his internal struggle swirling rather than darting across his green eyes.

 

   “Hey, Gavin.”

Just a moment’s silence.

   “Hey.”

 

As he sat down, the nurses looking baffled and insisting that Gavin needed some down time, he almost felt guilty about giving Gavin this minute’s peace at all. Because it wouldn’t last. It never would. In less than a few weeks time Gavin would be left to deal with himself again. Ray often wondered why he gave him that spark of hope, just for the fire to be put out again.

 

That afternoon, Gavin refused to go anywhere the nurses told him. His meds finally kicked in and although the shaking had stopped, his body still shivered and jolted in erratic movements, his skin as cold as the grave and eyes as dull as the night. Instead, he stuck by Ray, a routine they’d established within a year of being admitted into the care home. A routine that Gavin often thought was the only thing to keep him grounded, though the sanity he was stood upon was crumbling and breaking with each voice-filled day and every paranoia-filled night.

 

Gavin should have known not to get too attached, but the lure was too strong.

 

Though the hours seemed to drag that day, it wasn’t to say they were unpleasant. The nurses opted to leave Ray and Gavin alone as always, picking seats in one of the few conservatories around the establishment and making sure they were left to their own devices – to an extent, either way. The only time the peace was broken was when the alarm went off.

 

Ray didn’t even seem to hear it, cross-legged on the floor with piles of old newspapers and paper, ripping, tearing and folding into ornate shapes that – give a different context – might have seemed quite beautiful. That strained smile still plastered across his face, no indication that by tomorrow morning the expression would be wiped clean from his features – and would never return again.

 

   “I hate that bloody noise.” Gavin mumbled, sat on the sofa and watching as Ray worked with a drive no sane person could manage. He didn’t even know if Ray could hear him. But before the man on the floor got a chance to reply, a nurse rounded the corner into the conservatory, checking the doors. Locked, as excepted.

 

   “Be sure to stay put in here until the alarm’s switched off, please.”

 

Both men nodded and Ray muttered a reply, but the nurse left without another word, attending to yet another suicide attempt in the building. There were on average three to four alarms a week.

 

   “I wonder who it was.” Gavin said, voice a lot louder and clearer, and he tried to ignore the small whisper that came from the back of his head. The question hung heavy in the room, filling them up and leaving Gavin’s shoulders feeling heavy. And in a second, it was gone.

 

   “Just be proud it wasn’t you.” Ray muttered, but the tone was oddly enthusiastic and the look he cast behind him seemed to stop every function in Gavin’s body – if just for a second. Gavin didn’t notice as a disembodied voice rang out behind it all, telling him completely different. Gavin smiled for what seemed like the first time in months, and watched as continued his work.

 

The setting of the sun was oddly relaxing, the room filled with a warm, orange glow and the alarm finally clicked off, leaving them in the comforting silence of the room and the distance sound of people shuffling around the building. Gavin vaguely wondered if their next causality had made it or not, but Ray broke the thought down to nothing.

 

   “What do you think so far? Cool, right?”

Gavin peered down to see white pieces of paper, though the blank canvas was mottled and patterned with ripped pieces of newspapers. They were all glued down, in seemingly incoherent outlines and designs; both pristine and clear with straight white edges but messy from torn up print. Gavin couldn’t deny that there was something oddly fantastic about the sheer work load Ray had gone through, and the endless sheets of collages and piles of torn up text. Gavin leaned forward, shuffling through the pages and his attention was finally focused on one thing, not several.

   “These are brilliant, Ray.”

 

Ray smiled, and watched as Gavin shifted through the pages with brighter eyes than he’d seen in months. But something was uncurling inside of him and he looked away, suddenly feeling very tired.

   “Are you gunna make anymore?”

Ray gave an uncommitted shrug, breathing deeply and looking up a little as he heard footsteps approaching.

   “Maybe later.”

Gavin’s eyes flickered across his friends face, noticing the slight shift, but the nurse that greeted them cut the exchange short. Before Gavin could keep track, himself and Ray were walking out of the conservatory, leaving the amber-lit room and endless green scenery behind for a night. The nurse promised she’d leave Ray’s work where it was to carry on with tomorrow.

 

Something inside of Ray knew that chance wouldn’t come, but for that evening he tried to fight it off. He undressed, but had no energy to fold the clothes, not even enough energy to clean himself up before sleep. Only one thought kept him teetering out of panic, just the idea that he was tired, nothing more, nothing less.

 

But as he fell into a fitful sleep, all worries of Gavin replaced with a selfish need to support himself, the prospect of a bright morning was destroyed. He awoke in the middle of the night, cold yet feverish and tear-tracks running across his cheeks the second he was conscious again.

 

The shadow that forever haunted Gavin’s mind was now suffocating Ray’s entire body - plunging that manic energy into darkness once again.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is a patient suffering from severe schizophrenia in mental health asylum and is struggling to cope with the medication, but when bi-polar sufferer Ray seems to be able to soothe a part of him - there appears to be a slither of hope for them both. But they can never be fixed and should have seen it earlier. Because when Ray's condition comes crashing down upon him, leaving Gavin to battle his demons alone, it's only a matter of time before things come to an end.

When Gavin next woke up, it wasn’t to the scream of some nameless voice inside his head, or that undeniable feeling of being watched. It was to a screeching alarm and a heat so vicious Gavin thought his skin might be ablaze right there. Within seconds of waking, he could feel the smoke lining his lungs and eyes burning from the fog filling the room. For a moment, he stalled and wondered if it was just another hallucination, but the sound of his door slamming open and a nurse running inside diminished any idea he might have had. Her hand was oddly cool against his skin, gripping him tight and talking but he couldn’t hear the syllables clearly at all. What he could hear, was that strangely distinct sound of wood cracking and burning and flames beginning to lick the walls of the asylum. His first, disconnected thought was of Ray.

 

Gavin let himself be pulled from the comfort of his sheets but already he felt exhausted and out of breath; vacantly he wondered just how long he’d been asleep and unconscious to smoke billowing from under his door. He felt light-headed, as though everything was on a time delay and the smoke was making him feel sick. He knew his body wanted to retch, but the lack of energy held him back with both arms. The nurse was still talking, incoherent and muffled sounds against Gavin’s ear. All he could do was walk whichever way she dragged him, the heat rushing over him in waves and sweat pouring across his skin.

 

In that blistering, amber-filled moment the voices seemed to have burned out as Gavin’s eyes settled upon the building. He could see through the glass-panelled doors that the building was going up quickly. Somehow he knew. Somehow Gavin knew what had happened, but he tried not to believe it. Coming to terms with that would be like admitting his only support was terribly flawed. But that was a truth he never wanted to accept.

 

For hours he felt like he’d been dragged, the nurse ushering him quicker and quicker to escape the steadily falling building. The orange glows faded to the black of night, the sound of wood snapping died into a rush of panicked voices and when the cold air of outside hit Gavin, it sent him dizzy. His lungs filled with fresh air, the cold soothing his skin and finally his eyes began to focus in again. He was so glad to be out of that heat and that suffocating smoke. It surprised him just how happy he was to have survived the fire.

 

As the nurse walked him towards the group now waiting, shivering and sniffling in the cold, he looked around in a daze. He recognized nearly every face that was stood outside, watching as their home and prison burnt to the ground. Some were silently watching, as though not taking in the ordeal whilst others muttered and shouted to themselves in broken, jolted outbursts. The Brit’s eyes narrowed as he scoured the sea of faces. He easily noted that Barbara was missing. She was another patient he’d got to know quite well, though she spent most of her time alone in the safety of her room. He wondered if she hadn’t made it out of the fire yet, and turned around to look at the fire door. But then the sound of the earlier alarm hit his head again, and he hoped beyond anything that she hadn’t been the next one to give up.

 

The nurse watched as Gavin’s eyes darkened and dropped to the floor, breathing deeply and blinking out the soreness in his eyes. When he next lifted his head, it was as though the smoke had cleared and he _knew_. When an utterly nauseous and heavy feeling hit him the second he looked up, he knew what had happened.

 

Ray was standing just off from the main group, staring into the flames whilst a nurse talked _at_ him, not _to_ him. He wasn’t paying attention at all. That insanely bright smile that had covered his features just hours before was gone. Not a trace of it was left. His eyes were dark and face solemn. Gavin didn’t know what to think, even if he’d seen this state a thousand times before – it was always so sudden.

 

Ignoring the confused stare of his carer, he walked over to where Ray was standing and staring at the mess of an asylum. The fire engines were already on the scene, trying to tackle the flames and put out the fire. The nurse that had been trying to speak to Ray stopped the instant Gavin approached, and for a moment she wondered what to do. In the end, the woman gave a final glance to Ray and backed off, deciding that she wasn’t going to get much out of him at that rate. Gavin didn’t say a word, and didn’t need to as Ray glanced up at him for a second. There was something so cold and lost in those eyes, and it broke Gavin’s heart.

 

Standing side-by-side, Gavin waited, and watched. He expected no explanation or excuse, but it seemed Ray was ready to at least give him one despite the energy it took to even think.

   “I went back to look at the papers.”

Gavin tilted his head and watched as Ray spoke, not daring to cut him off and risk him going mute once again. Even if he knew what Ray had done, it was rare for him to speak when the down cycle began, and so he waited patiently for Ray’s dry and breaking voice again.

   “They were such a mess, Gavin. I don’t know why I made them.”

It was something so small, so utterly insignificant and yet Gavin knew that in both the manic and depressed spectrum of Ray’s condition – they meant the universe and showed so much.

   “I just wanted to get rid of them.”

And with that, Gavin’s suspicions had been confirmed. He nodded slowly, turning his gaze back to the building that was slowly dying down to a pathetic, yellow glow, the walls blackened and charred. The light seemed to dip into every crevice of the pair’s skin, highlighting how much weight Ray had lost over his time here and the dark circles cradling Gavin’s eyes.

 

That solemn moment seemed to drag on for hours and soon enough the fire was almost out. Gavin turned his head to Ray once again, and saw the tell-tale glaze over his hazel eyes. Reaching out his hand, his fingers brushed against the other’s wrist, gripping gently before sliding down to his hand. It was so gentle, he didn’t know if Ray even noticed. But then those cold fingers were moving in-between his own and holding tight.

 

Shoulder to shoulder, fingers entwined and finally dowsed in shadow, their breaking spirits were kept upright once more. Just for a moment longer.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is a patient suffering from severe schizophrenia in mental health asylum and is struggling to cope with the medication, but when bi-polar sufferer Ray seems to be able to soothe a part of him - there appears to be a slither of hope for them both. But they can never be fixed and should have seen it earlier. Because when Ray's condition comes crashing down upon him, leaving Gavin to battle his demons alone, it's only a matter of time before things come to an end.

The next couple of months was nothing short of a nightmare. Half of the asylum had been blocked off while it was repaired and rebuilt, meaning the comfortable routine most people were in – was broken. Gavin was struggling to take his medication without feeling sick and weak, and with the irregular consumption his condition seemed to take a spiral – straight down. And this time he had no way of cushioning the fall.

Barbara had never come back since the day of the fire, and a part of Ray had been burned and left to die.

It seemed as though every second Ray was inattentive and trapped in his own head, was a second that Gavin seemed to fade away. But he simply couldn’t help it anymore. It was impossible to be so selfless. Letting himself waste away to nothing but a casket filled with blood-soaked fantasies didn’t make him a better person, and leaving Gavin to battle his own demons didn’t make him a bad one. It was just how it had to be for then.

Unfortunately, it seemed as though this time it was just too long of a wait, and too much of a struggle. Neither Gavin nor Ray could have ever imagined it was going to end the way it did, but nothing in their power could have changed it.

The pair were outside when something switched inside their heads.

It was late afternoon and though the sun was setting it was by no means dark. It had been quite windy all day but the cold was refreshing, sending small, barely-there shivers down the patients spines. Gavin concentrated solely on his breathing and the sound of leaves drifting across the porch they had to sit on for any kind of view of outside. The conservatories had long gone. Black, breaking and currently being thrown into a skip to be rebuilt later. He wondered if Ray regretted it at all, the cold starting to get to the other man. He’d lost so much weight, the glasses seeming to emphasis the gaunt appearance of his eyes. Though Gavin couldn’t really speculate anymore. He was looking just as bad.

Gavin’s eyes darted across the porch, the bit of land that was fenced off infront of them and to his right, a long driveway leading up to the asylum reception. He tried to focus on every detail, tried to pull his head away from the string of voices humming in the back of his head – but it just wasn’t enough. He kept glancing towards Ray, hoping he might speak but expected nothing at all. In that sense, Gavin wasn’t disappointed.

As the Brit watched Ray breath, it was like the smallest intake of air took the world to soak in. The shivers that ran across his body looked as though they could splinter his frail bones. Though Gavin’s head was riddled with voices and dark shadows, Ray’s state was so distracting sometimes. But that captivation wouldn’t stick around for long. Every piece of him knew it’d never simply be fixed. And yet he pushed Ray for that miniscule amount of solace – he couldn’t help himself.

“It’s getting a little cold now.”

Gavin’s voice seemed to be dragged away, fading out and hitting dead-ears no matter how loud. Ray didn’t even blink. Just breathed in long, heavy breaths and Gavin swore he could see the weight bringing him down, yet still he pushed on. He was scared. Because each day Ray stayed silent, Gavin’s presence a burden on him, the voices could take over completely. Whispers and mutters now screaming, shouting; demanding and coaxing almost every night. And a small, withering part of Gavin wished he could help. A part that had been crushed under his own human instinct to survive and fix himself.

The sun was setting quickly, and an oddly comforting darkness fell upon the two. No doubt the nurse would be on her way to fetch them inside. But for then, Gavin tried to revel in his senses rather than his thoughts, knowing Ray wasn’t there to help him out with his soothing voice and intent stare. That part of Ray wasn’t anywhere to be found.

It seemed like hours passed before Ray finally talked. And though there was comfort in it, Gavin had the distinct worry that there was something hiding behind those actions. But for then, his mind latched onto the escape – and he never dwelled on what it meant before it was too late.

“I’m tired, Gav.”

Gavin looked up from where he’d been staring at the fencing of the porch, turning to Ray and watching, oddly silent, as Ray leant into his side; head resting again Gavin’s shoulder. For a minute, Gavin bristled, not used to those actions even when Ray was in his better state of mind – if you could call it that. But eventually, he melted into it. Slowly slouching until his head was settled atop the others. It was warm, and in those minutes Gavin’s head was a little quieter, but Ray’s was screaming.

Gavin was happy to get inside as the nurse found them, the cold starting to make him uncomfortable. She smiled a little to herself before ushering the pair inside, escorting them to their rooms and making sure they got to bed safe.

Ray wished he could have stayed there forever. Outside in the cold, with nothing but the shivers to make him feel and the tickle of Gavin’s hair to keep him suspended. He smiled weakly as he watched Gavin walk into his room, seeing those glazed-over, green eyes for the last time. The nurse walked him to his room just minutes after.

He was glad.

He was so, so tired.

The next morning is so odd for Gavin. So surreal. He drops off to sleep in the early hours, too fixated on the dark shadows in the corner of his room to settle down and wakes up far too early. Not to a voice. Not to some scathing, foreboding remark. But an alarm. A piercing, god-awful alarm that sends shivers down Gavin’s spine the minute he’s conscious enough to recognize it.

And somehow he knows.

He stumbles out of bed and to his door, determined to prove himself wrong but the door is sealed shut – the place on lock-down. His throat runs dry and he feels sick. Not from the medication. He can’t feel it in his blood or head anymore. He can’t even hear the voices above the alarm. When the nurse comes in to check on him, he tries to ask what’s wrong. He tries to ask who’d hurt themselves – but the words just don’t make it. Her eyes tell him more than her sympathy-laden words ever could. He tries to convince himself that it wasn’t happening. That he wouldn’t do something like this and leave him alone - but the nurse tells him otherwise.

And everything stops for a moment.

Pictures click into place and so much overwhelms him that he just seems to stop. He tries to feel, and feels absolutely nothing. Completely numb. His head can’t get around any of it and in that bizarre stretch of time – there are no voices or dark shadows. All he can do, is wonder why?

When he comes to, the nurse is holding him upright and despite his thoughts he can’t let go of her. It hurts. It hurts to cry so much but he can’t help himself, because in a rush of coherence the voices come back and scream all at once. They fill his head with so much and he can’t help but sob. The sound of a stretcher resonates in the hall and his stomach turns. Gavin knows he shouldn’t look, and the nurse knows it too as she tries shutting the door – but he still sees those white sheets slipping past his view. He should have known not to rely so heavily on such a small thing.

But he needed Ray.

Trapped in his own head, one voice rings above the rest. Clear and cutting through his thoughts in one go. It tears him up worse than the others ever could manage. All he can hear is the blame and the anger, the utter disappointment and despair. Pure despair lining that tone.

   _“It was you. He needed you, but you were too selfish to even help him. Ray’s **dead** because of you.”_

It hurt beyond anything Gavin had felt.

It hurt, because the voice was _his_ , and Ray’s own would never be able drown it out again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you would like to reblog or like this fic on tumblr:
> 
> http://teaandotherstuff.tumblr.com/tagged/i%27m-medicated-how-are-you-fic


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